


Amanda From America

by Shamione



Series: Amanda Series [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Play, Blow Jobs, Clubbing, Crack, Dancing, Drunk Sex, F/M, Finger Sucking, Good Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Sex, Smut, Tattooed Draco Malfoy, Tattoos, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:02:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25808527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shamione/pseuds/Shamione
Summary: Ginny is home from the Harpies this weekend, and she wants to dance. So Hermione applies her well tuned glamour for a night on the town, where she can dance and be free. And maybe get laid. But an unexpected suitor shows up at the bar, and Hermione finds herself unable to say no.PWP. Rated E for a reason.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: Amanda Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2188152
Comments: 56
Kudos: 419
Collections: Completed/Downloaded/Read Works





	Amanda From America

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this one-shot on and off for a while. Finally decided to finish it. I hope you enjoy it! Let me know if you do! :)
> 
> I do not own the characters of Harry Potter. Those are owned by WB Media and J.K. Rowling. I'm just doing this for the shits and giggles.

"Oh, flatmate!"

Mere seconds spanned between the cheerful voice of her flatmate and the woman dashing through the bedroom door. Hermione quickly tossed her heavy book aside before the girl was vaulting herself onto Hermione's bed. Directly into the curly-haired brunette's lap.

"Merlin, Ginny!" Hermione grunted with a grin ear to ear, beaming as she wrapped her arms about her best girlfriend’s shoulders.

"I'm home!" Ginny exclaimed, nuzzling into Hermione's middle as she wiggled her arms between her and the mattress.

"Yes, I can see that," Hermione chuckled. "I thought rest week wasn't for another two weeks?" 

"Coach's wife gave birth early! But he only gave us the weekend off. So back to Holyhead on Sunday night." 

"Molly will be thrilled you're home. She's missed you dearly."

Ginny scoffed with an eye roll that nearly made her head turn, as well. "Sure, she will be. Wonder if she can wrangle yet another hunky, single bachelor without any notice."

"You've got to admit. The German fellow was a good story."

"She knows I'm not ready to settle down and start popping out tiny gremlins!"

"Well, I'm glad you're home. I was starting to get lonely." 

Ginny nuzzled into her middle anew, and Hermione let her fingers wash through the redhead's hair. While her and Ginny had never been genuinely close at Hogwarts, that had changed rather abruptly after the Second Wizarding War. Hermione and Ron had been in a somewhat accidental relationship - if you could call what they had been doing that. And Harry had plucked up the courage and convinced Ginny to give him a second chance.

The four spent endless nights together that summer within the walls of Grimmauld Place and the Burrow. Getting their bearings and learning to live again, learning who they truly were. When Harry and Ron went into Auror training, Hermione and Ginny were left somewhat alone for the final month before their return to Hogwarts.

And the two had bonded quickly over rubbish television and, much to Hermione's surprise, muggle literature. Which had sparked a rather inseparable kinship throughout their redo year at Hogwarts. Ginny's had been the shoulder on which Hermione cried when she found out her parents' memories were unreturnable. She became a constant companion in the common room during the nights neither could sleep, and both were the other's lifeline when wandering the battle-torn halls had become too deafening.

After NEWTS, they moved back into Grimmauld, much to Molly's chagrin. Ron's blatant envy of she and Ginny's closeness grated on more nerves than Hermione knew she possessed. And in an explosive argument, the two had called it quits in fits of rage. Motivating Hermione to move into a flat overlooking the River Thames, funded by her new role at the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.

Ginny made the Holyhead Harpies’ backup team a few short months later, and in a surprising turn of events, had shown up on Hermione's doorstep requesting a room to crash on off weekends. She and Harry had evidently recognized that whatever childhood crushes and false love had been between them in their youth hadn't managed to survive the cold years of war. But they agreed to remain friends, and Harry joyously informed Hermione that he did not mind the two sharing a flat.

Ginny sighing drew Hermione back to their moment, her nails raking against the redhead's scalp, massaging down onto her neck. A delicate moan passed over Ginny's lips, and Hermione felt herself flush as a minute ripple of excitement coursed through her.

"If you don't stop, witch, I'll have my way with you again," Ginny growled, leaning up to gaze at Hermione. "It's been ages."

Hermione groaned in her throat, tipping her head back as her eyes closed. "You're not the only one. The last time we..."

"Was your last?" Ginny questioned, exasperated. "Merlin, 'Mione! That was months ago. Go out more!" 

"I don't want to go out on my own or just sleep around!" 

"Then accept one of the many date invitations you receive!" Ginny exclaimed, pinching Hermione's thigh playfully as the brunette grimaced.

"No, Gin. I will not lower myself to McLaggen again."

"What's one night?" 

"Two weeks of inappropriate statements and lecherous eyes at work is what!" 

"Then let's go out! Find someone not from work. I could use a drink." 

"Am I able to refuse?"

"You may not! I just got home, and I need to unwind. Up! Shower!"

Ginny shoved off the bed then, dragging Hermione up by the arms with her. And she all but shoved Hermione through her bathroom door, shutting it loudly behind her. Demanding the curly-haired witch shower and ready for a Friday on the town.

Hermione couldn't help but laugh at her best mate's antics. She was a roaring ball of fierceness wrapped tightly around a coil, waiting for someone to unleash her. Hermione had loved watching her grow into her own. And found Ginny's somewhat domineering personality deeply attractive.

And thus had landed the two tangled together between her bedsheets after a drunken night of dancing three years ago. And tangled together quite a few times afterward.

Hermione hurried through her shower, pacing back into her room; her eyes befell a rather skimpy pair of black denim shorts and a sequin silver top lying atop her bed. Ginny certainly had a flamboyant sense of style that Hermione didn't frequent, but on their nights out, she always did let a bit loose. No one recognized it was her, and she allowed herself to unwind, to be a person she couldn't generally be within the public's eye.

"Get dressed!" Ginny demanded from the doorway.

As usual, Ginny looked absolutely stunning, narrowly clad in a short green dress that shimmered about her form. Her long red hair waved about her back as she held a delighted grin across her features, painted with a layer of delicate makeup that flaunted all her best assets.

"Where are we going that this is appropriate?"

"To Twist," Ginny exclaimed, passing into the room, dragging Hermione's towel from her body. "Put the clothes on and hair up!"

"And wear these." Ginny dropped the single pair of lace knickers Hermione owned on top of the scant clothing with a grin. The redhead rapped Hermione's bare arse three times before nearly skipping from the room. "These, too!" Ginny shouted as a pair of silver platform heels floated through Hermione's doorway.

Sighing to herself with a lighthearted smile, Hermione donned all of her borrowed clothes. A glance in the mirror revealed her half-hearted enthusiasm before she gathered her wand from the dresser.

With a delicate flourish toward her head, Hermione's dull chestnut curls lightened from the root, shifting into a dusty blonde shade. Her nose rounded a bit more button-like, and her cheekbones protruded a touch, giving her a more pouty appearance. Her lips tinted redder, and the tips of her ears pointed somewhat as if she had elven blood in her genes. Her eyes shifted to a stunning shade of hazel, her lashes lengthening and darkening some.

She flicked her wand over, and her hair twisted into a loose coiled bun on the top of her head. Seizing the simple silver clip from her dresser, she pinned the curls in place, casting a sticking charm and rocking her head to test the stay.

It wasn't much, but it did the trick. Regardless of how many photos Hermione appeared in beside Ginny, the papers and reporters never knew who she truly was. The patrons of the many pubs and clubs they frequented only sought Ginny's attention and left Hermione entirely alone.

Precisely what she desired.

Hermione nodded, putting on her shoes as she enchanted her front pocket, slipping her wand inside. Ginny was waiting wholly impatiently in the sitting room, her foot rapping on the ground as a restless look on her features.

"I don't know why you wear that thing everywhere!" Ginny rebuked, referring to Hermione's well-tuned glamour.

"I don't want to be in the papers. Or hassled all night because of who I am."

"You could get us so many free drinks."

"You get free drinks! Famous Ginny Weasley, star Chaser for the Harpies. Remember?"

"Hell yes, I remember," Ginny announced smugly. "Well, come on then, _Amanda from America_ , let's go dance."

* * *

_Twist_

The newest and only muggle inspired dance club in Diagon Alley.

And the best part? No media. No cameras. No reporters. Only music, dancing, and alcohol.

It was the most elusive and inclusive place for witches and wizards in Britain just to be themselves. Young and old, it didn't matter - Twist was a place to unwind and simply be. To worry little of the world outside and let free in an atmosphere that never trickled outside its doors.

And Hermione was utterly grateful Ginny loved the spot so.

As she and Ginny's feet hit the patio's smooth pavement, the thumping of bass greeted her senses. Twist had their own Ministry sanctioned apparition spots on their veranda, allowing for total anonymity from the hawks that stalked around the structural mandated front door. Which rarely, if ever, opened.

Ginny's broad grin invaded Hermione's pores as her best mate laced their arms, tugging her forward and through the solid black doors.

Hermione always felt a bit stunned by the intricate magic littered throughout the club. Where other dance houses met you with an utter cacophony of music against your eardrums the moment you stepped inside, Twist did not. The music was still somewhat pulsating, the bass' vibrations still rippling over her skin, but the outer rim of the club was charmed into a mute tone. Allowing one to hear a partner's words as they mingled outside the dance floor.

The space was dark, flashes of blue and purple dancing along the walls and ceilings, as deeper shades flickered in the middle of the room. Where people filled the dance floor, bouncing to the music charmed louder to pulse bass against your heart.

Tables lined the walls, and bodies packed them, just like every Friday night. Private booths of deep purple canopied by sheer fabrics of lilac lined the back wall, allowing high paying customers to overlook the expansive dance floor and the club about them with privacy.

A crowd jammed the bar, as usual, as the two witches paced further inside. Ginny tugged Hermione toward one of the few openings with an eager smile, but a group of women stepped into their way, enthusiastic grins engulfing all of their faces.

"Oh my gods! You're Ginny Weasley!" A random, blonde-haired witch screeched.

"You're right! That's her!" Another echoed. "Oh my, gods!" 

It had taken a record short time this evening before Ginny was pulled away into a crowd of people. Getting handed drinks as a smug smile played at her lips. As she devoured the attention that she so desperately seemed to crave. She loved the recognition, thrived off of it, and Hermione was glad she was around to pull any lingering, wandering eyes away from herself.

Hermione squeezed into the packed bar sideways beside a short man in a tank top as her friend vanished, leaning onto the bar top. Minutes ticked by as bartenders overlooked her, helping patrons to either side of her without a second glance. The one downfall of not being Hermione Granger, Golden Girl, Harry Potter's best friend in public. She huffed loudly, throwing up her hand slightly higher in annoyance, leaning onto her tiptoes and hoping the few extra centimeters would help her get noticed.

A firm, broad chest pushed against her back then. A luxurious fragrance wafting about her as cinnamon and citrus invaded her every pore. A toned, muscular, wholly tattooed arm raised in her peripheral, flicking a single finger in the air. And the lone female bartender appeared to jump from her skin, nearly tossing the drink she was fixing onto the counter to run across the bar's back to help him.

"What do you want?" A deep voice drawled close to her ear, making her body shiver slightly.

Hermione ventured a glance over her shoulder to see who currently handled her, and the shock that invaded her lower lip loosened it for gravity to take hold. Currently pressed into every crook of her form was none other than Draco Malfoy. He smirked a bit, raising a single eyebrow in question, but Hermione's mind was wholly blank.

"Excu… what?" Hermione stammered, and she realized her American accent had significantly faltered.

"Drink. What would you like?" 

"Ap… apple martini."

Malfoy leaned over the counter then, setting his right hand on her lower back firmly in the process. Splaying his fingers and his grip seemed to nearly span her entire form. Heating her back and her cheeks all the same.

"Ogden's 20 year and an... apple martini," he chuckled.

He leaned in a bit further then, speaking whispered words directly into the bartender's ear, who brightly smiled as he pulled away. Malfoy sank back as the bartender flicked her wand, and a bottle from the top shelf levitated down. Hermione acknowledged that he still held her securely, even though he had seemingly just flirted with another woman. But she couldn't deny the heat of his hand as it seemed to sear through her flimsy shirt.

"I've been standing here for ten minutes without service," Hermione huffed, donning her American accent.

"They don't know you," Malfoy said, dipping back into her space as if the bar's noise required it, his hand shifting further around her waist.

"And they know you?"

"They know my money."

The bartender bounced back then, passing their drinks over the counter as his dejected tone echoed in Hermione's mind. Malfoy dropped more galleons than the cost of their drinks into the woman's hand with a nod, and her face lit up impossibly more as he grasped his firewhiskey, nodded to her in parting.

"Enjoy," he whispered into Hermione's ear, withdrawing his hand slowly from her back.

Hermione felt utterly bewildered for a moment, slowly pivoting to view him walk away. To trail his now broad shoulders as they disappeared into the crowd, his kempt blonde hair fading into the sea of people. And it took long moments before Hermione was finally able to take a deep breath. 

Had that indeed been Draco Malfoy? Arms covered in tattoos, and a short, manicured beard on his still sharp jawline. Wearing only a simple tee-shirt and jeans. His hair faded on the sides and longer, unruly yet somehow styled precisely atop his head. Looking wholly opposite from the last time she had seen him more than five years ago - all formal tuxes and a permanent sneer.

Suddenly undeniably thirsty, Hermione grabbed her glass and downed it in one go. The bartender who had served Malfoy stood near her, her eyes darting back every few seconds. And when Hermione raised her finger in the air, the girl jumped into action as she had before, fixing another drink without pause.

"It's covered," the blonde bartender stated with a smile, waving off the galleon Hermione tried to drop onto the counter as she turned back to the throngs of people.

Downing her second drink in another record time, Hermione tried to clear her mind. To stop the searing heat that she could still feel on the expanse of her back. And before she could lift a finger for a third drink, the bartender had already placed it before her without seeking payment. 

Sighing somewhat puzzled to herself, Hermione spun to scan the room for a place to blend in. Along the wall sat an empty cocktail table, to which she paced, sipping her drink moderately as she perched about it. Observing the people throughout the club as they mixed and mingled - her favorite pastime outside of dancing within the powerful walls of bass.

"Care to dance?" A tall, brown-haired man asked smoothly some while later, holding out his hand with a smile.

Downing the remnants of her drink, a bubble of numbness invaded her toes, and Hermione grinned. She charged toward the dance floor without taking his hand, leaving him somewhat in her wake as she paced the club's expanse.

And she welcomed the loudness as she felt magic ripple over her skin. It was like walking through a wall of vibration, the music thumping fully about the illuminated space as you stepped inside. Hermione turned, expecting to see the man who had enticed her into the floor, but he had vanished. Nowhere to be seen.

But she didn't care. Shrugging to herself, she let her mind clear and fall to the music. Let her body move to the waves of bass and the rhythm of the bodies around her.

The glamour let her be someone she wasn't. Allowed her to let loose as the mass of people around her jumped, swayed, and danced to the pounding atmosphere. It was liberating to not be the Golden Girl for a night. To live a life of somewhat obscurity, where the only people who knew her name, knew her real face as well.

Hermione wasn't sure how long she danced, finding a few partners against which to rock. Sweat building on her skin as her heart raced, and the heat of the floor sweltered against her skin. But Ginny's radiant face appeared through the crowd sometime later, lips stretched into a broad grin.

"Amannnnnda!" Ginny shouted over the music, throwing her arms around Hermione's neck.

The superstar took only a moment before she leaned in, pressing her lips firmly to Hermione's. Her inebriation evident now, but Hermione couldn't deny the tingles of want as the pressure of the redhead's lips crushed against her own.

Ginny drew back quickly, cackling happily, a huge grin still on her face. A couple of people swarmed them then, dancing animatedly, one even handing Hermione a drink. And they all bounced to the music, stumbling together grinning as they tried to dance. Awfully. But no one seemed to care.

Ginny spun her around, sandwiching her between the random blonde girl from earlier and herself. And Hermione's eyes landed directly on Draco Malfoy over the girl's shoulder.

He was sitting alone in a booth, curtains of lilac billowing about him, his ardent gaze undeviatingly on her. He looked utterly irresistible as he pushed a hand through his hair, winking at her once as he lifted a tumbler of whiskey to his lips. An unintentional smile traveled across Hermione's expression before she could stop it, and her face flushed as she spun back toward Ginny. Who had wholly vanished.

And in the seconds it had taken to search fruitlessly for her best mate, he had also disappeared when she glanced back, seeking his gaze. She felt silly standing in the middle of the dance floor, bodies about her gyrating as hers urged her toward the cooler air.

But before she could push her feet into action, a pair of firm hands fell around her hips, thumbs dipping into the belt loops of her shorts as a brawny chest pushed against her back. And she recognized the tattoos from early. Malfoy started to sway them slightly, his hips urging hers to follow his rhythm gradually, even though the song around them pounded a quick beat.

And Hermione felt her core sing as his heat invaded her essence. She allowed her head to fall back against his shoulder as one hand traveled to cup his neck, the other falling to rest on his. And she was sure he approved, because his arms caged her in a bit more, dragging her hips backward as his fingers dug into her.

He spun her suddenly, sliding a hand into the back pocket of her shorts, gripping her arse lightly as the other pressed into her back, below her shirt. Drawing her closer as his lips fell to her ear.

"May I buy you another drink?"

Hermione simply nodded, the music thumping around them as his heated gaze met hers. 

"My booth."

He pointed to the empty circular couch where he had been sitting previously before his hands fell away from her sweat covered body. He dipped his head and disappeared through the throngs of witches and wizards behind him before she had a chance to say anything. Leaving her somewhat breathless.

She took a moment to attempt to steel her features, watching his pale hair vanish, before shoving through the crowd.

Stepping onto his booth's platform was a refreshing experience. Hermione had never been in one before, and they apparently held enchantments to drown out the sound around them, similar to the bar but to a deeper extent. Hermione could still feel the bass thumping still, soft sounds of the melody invading her ears as an unmistakable cooling charm traveled the expanse of her exposed skin.

She sank into the plush couch, realizing for the first time how tired her legs were. She closed her eyes for a moment, hands massaging her thighs as her head rested against the plush couch backing. Slightly groaning as she welcomed the relief of sitting.

His deep chuckle dusted the faint color of embarrassment over her cheeks as her eyes snapped open. She withdrew her hands quickly as their gazes met, and he wore a somewhat salacious smirk across his lips that drew a rather unexpected reaction from her core.

"Here," Malfoy offered, holding another apple martini out to her.

Hermione accepted with a small smile, pulling it to her lips and drinking it rather quickly. It was refreshing as the liquid flowed down her parched throat. But she lost the ability to swallow as he sank next to her, his thigh pressing against hers as his arm laid on the couch about her head.

He took a swig of his fine firewhiskey, licking his bottom lip as a droplet fell onto it. He was silent for a moment, gazing out over the dance floor as his hand moved closer into Hermione's shoulders, running small patterns against her still sweaty skin. Down her arm and raking his nails gently over its expanse.

"So, Granger, why the glamour?" 

Absolute shock coursed through her, her eyes snapping wide as her head thrashed toward his. She could hear her beating heart in her ears, and the lump in her throat seemed to hinder her from speaking. He knew who she was? How could he possibly know? Not once in the three years of using her glamor had someone identified her.

"You… you know it's me?"

"I've stared at that," he said somewhat huskily, running his hand up her arm and dragging a single finger against her skin until it paused on the nape of her neck, "beauty mark for eight years. Of course, I know it's you."

Something about the atmosphere. The drinks. The delicate thump of bass against Hermione's heart. The lingering heat from Malfoy's steady hand and the sheer tingle left in the wake of his finger. The fiery look on his face and the knowledge he knew who she was even through her glamour. All combined and made her body quiver.

"Showing up with Weaselette didn't shield your identity, either."

"It… it has worked quite well in the past."

"And likely would have tonight had I not seen you at the bar." 

Another measure of shock coursed through her. "You've known it was me the entire night?"

And Malfoy simply shrugged, a half-smirk growing over his lips as he bounced his eyebrows once. Glancing back out over the dance floor and leaving her fairly astounded gaze stuck on his cheek.

"So, why the glamour?" 

"I don't want people to approach me simply because of who I am... So it's better if no one knows. I'm just Amanda from America." 

"Ah."

"What are you doing here, anyway?" Hermione asked suddenly, trying to shift their conversation away from her focus as she sat her glass atop the low table before her.

"I cannot support local business, Granger?" 

"Of course you can! I just… I mean, never mind."

Malfoy laughed somewhat, gripping her shoulder and nudging her knee a bit with his own.

"Theo," he drawled, pointing across the bar where another extremely familiar face leaned against a wall, talking intimately with an unfamiliar man. "His favorite spot. And I like booze."

He shrugged then, laughing as he took another sip of his fine firewhiskey. Gods, Hermione wished her heart would stop beating so loudly. It was just Draco Malfoy. Ferret extraordinaire. Who had willingly admitted to watching her for years? Who easily identified who she was through her glamour. Who was currently running his fingers down her arm and making her womanhood sing a familiar tune.

"So, did I see you kiss Weaselette?" 

"If you've been stalking me all night, then likely."

"Never took you as one to play on the same team," he laughed. "Suppose I'm a bit put out I have no chance."

She scoffed then, rolling her eyes at his insensitivity. "I don't 'play for the same team,' Malfoy. Don't be inconsiderate."

"Her tongue down your throat says otherwise." 

"It wasn't that lewd. It was a simple kiss."

"Looked rather familiar to me."

"I will not deny that Ginny and I have slept together. More than once." 

His face was a tangled mass of confusion and what appeared to be lust as it snapped toward hers. And Hermione let herself enjoy it. Let herself enjoy the way his lips separated in a bit of confusion and how his nostrils flared with lust. Savored the way his tongue skated over his bottom lip as they rolled together. Relished in the desire that seemed to course over his features.

"But that doesn't mean I prefer only woman," Hermione continued, ticking the left side of her mouth into a heated smirk as she glanced sidelong at him. "And why do you assume you have a chance, regardless?"

She could swear the weight of his gaze was palpable as he stared down at her, eyes lidded heavily with firewhiskey. A slow smirk spread across his lips as his hand trailed over her bare shoulder, cupping the back of her neck. And she could feel the heat on her cheeks, echoed in the depths of her core, as she exhaled a jagged breath.

He leaned into her, his nose brushing against the sensitive skin of her throat deftly. Her chin raised perceptively, turning slightly away to allow him easier access. She wasn't doing this on her own. Her body was overpowering her mind in the slightly dazed drunkenness that lingered in her limbs.

"That beautiful blush on your face," he whispered against the skin behind her ear, punctuated with a soft kiss.

And her fingers tightened on her thigh, a short, shuddered breath passing her quivering lips as her abdomen seized. Malfoy's lust-filled laugh ghosted across her skin, and she had to bite back the moan that battle to escape her throat.

"Look at me," Malfoy demanded, and the power in his voice sent pleasure into her toes.

His irritatingly handsome smirk greeted her as she shifted her head back toward his, slowly. Hermione could feel the heat from his skin, their noses nearly touching from their closeness. His hand tightened anew on her nape, holding her in place and making her gasp as he pulled her closer. 

"People will see," she whispered against his lips, her eyes fluttering closed and her body not fighting him.

"Me. No one knows who Amanda is, right?" 

"Right…" she said shakily.

And Malfoy brushed their lips together lightly. So delicately. And absolute passion danced in her femininity.

His lips were soft, softer than she could have imagined, as they pressed against hers once, twice, and a third time before his tongue swept across her bottom lip. Hermione parted her mouth, and with a firm tug forward of her neck, his tongue plunged inside.

The taste of his kiss was sweet, a mixture of her apple martini swirling with his whiskey's cinnamon. He was gentle at first, their kiss leisurely until his free hand slipped to her thigh, gripping near her apex firmly.

She moaned deep in her throat, and that seemed to tempt him. His hand slipped into the hair, tightening as he poured an intense passion into their kiss. A stroke of boldness coursed through Hermione, and she bit his lip, pulling it between her teeth before letting go, and fisting a hand into his shirt.

But he pulled back suddenly, his eyes lidded, but the dilation of his pupils evident as he drew in deep breaths.

"It's time to go, Granger," he said, standing and discreetly adjusting himself.

"Wh… what?"

He turned back to her with a solid, burning stare that invaded her core as he gazed down at her. "I'm leaving. And you're coming with me."

Could she leave this club with Draco Malfoy? Snogging him in the heat of the moment was one thing. But could she genuinely bring herself to have a one-night stand with a man who had made her life hell? Who had been a Death Eater and frequently wished her dead? Who had consistently told her she was hideous, dirty, and likely only now wanted her because she wore her glamour?

The wanton look on his face tingled fission of thrill down her spine at how deeply he seemed to crave her. Evident in the separation of his lips and the arousal pushing against his trousers. And if the heat between her thighs meant anything, she wanted him desperately, too. 

And what was one night out of thousands?

Her gaze lingered on his crotch for a moment, and he chuckled darkly. He wore a somewhat carnal smirk as he raised an eyebrow in question, offering a smooth palm out to her. She blinked up at him, watching his pupils dilate further as he looked down at her.

Hermione smiled shyly, gliding her palm against his. And his grasp seized her, tugging her up quickly as he laced their fingers. Pulling her toward the veranda doors and into the apparition spots with a pause.

Her world spun, her fingers clutching his tightly as her feet met the plush carpet for his sitting room. But her mind held little interest in taking in her surroundings as his hand pulled her, spinning her to face him in the moonlight streaming through the windows. 

The warmth of his hand leaving her was sudden as he stepped back, his eyes scanning her frame with a clear primal desire. 

"Take it off."

The vigor of his voice, the power of his demand made her body shudder slightly. The heat in his gaze made her skin prickle as she cupped the hem of her silver shirt, slowly lifting. But his lips grew into an infuriating smirk as he held up his hand.

"The glamour, Granger." 

A bit startled, Hermione slipped her wand out of her pocket slowly, casting a silent Finite toward her glamoured features. He looked nearly relieved as she felt her magic fall away, knowing her curls were now a dull chestnut and her face a bit more rounded. Plain.

"Better," Malfoy whispered, stepping into her, and Hermione felt an excitement build in her gut.

Gods, he was tall. Had he always been this tall? And this broad? Merlin, this was mad. Everything about this moment should be wrong. But the satisfaction coursing through her as his hand roamed up her body didn't feel improper at all.

His hand lingered up her neck, brushing feather-light against the column as it traveled to her hair. The pressure against her head waned as he released the clip from her locks. And her curls sprang rampant as his primal smirk grew further over his features.

"Much better," he spoke firmly, tossing the clip aside and driving a hand into her tangled hair, clasping it, and suddenly pulling her head back.

Making her knees almost buckle under the sensation. Hermione's ragged gasp saturated the space between them at the strength, and her fingers sought the fabric of Malfoy's shirt. And the next moment, his mouth was on hers in a searing kiss. He didn't ask for permission this time before parting her lips and driving his tongue inside.

Thrusting in and out; driving in and drawing out. Hermione echoed his movements, following him as her whimpers of need filled the air.

This was nothing like she had experienced before. Malfoy was commanding. He knew precisely what he required, and he made sure to take every bit. He didn't ask for permission to touch her. Though he had it. Didn't ask for permission to grasp her arse, but she allowed it.

But she nearly fell forward when he stepped back, his entire form leaving hers so suddenly it felt as though it had been a dream from which she'd startled awake. Her lips still pursed as her eyes remained shut. Her hands lingering in the air, where they were fisted in his shirt.

"Come," he growled.

She felt frozen for a moment at the loss of his contact, her eyes fluttering open to catch the sight of him stalking up a set of steps to her right.

"Now, Granger." 

Her femininity clenched at his tone. At the command in his voice. By the time her feet hauled her to the bottom of the stairs, he was already waiting at the summit. His heated stare fired across her skin as she ascended each one slowly. Deliberately. His chest rising and falling heavily with each slow swish of her hip, and she felt a further thrill of excitement course through her.

He loomed over her with lips in a tight line of desire as she reached the top. But before her foot landed on the zenith, his hands slid swiftly about her waist. Effortlessly lifting her and spinning against the wall behind him. He caged her somewhat, setting her down and dipping in, capturing her lips in yet another intense kiss.

A desperate measure of need passed through her as she pushed into him. Caressing their lips together before opening her mouth and begging for his tongue with a whimper. But he pulled back, eyes examining her face with a blaze that sent a frisson down her spine.

"You like being commanded, don't you, Granger?" he drawled. "Like it when someone else takes control just this once when you're so in control of everything else." 

"No," she responded quietly, but the quiver in her voice sang a different tone.

Malfoy's dark chuckle settled over her, his hand gripping her jaw as his lips lingered in the space near hers. His knee pushed between her legs, separating them somewhat roughly as his thigh threatened to push against her mound. The determination in his eyes and the power of his grasp made her lips fall apart in a jagged gasp, and he grinned.

"Liar."

She thought he was going to kiss her again, based on the look in his eyes. Push her against the wall of his hallway and fuck her senseless, for which her body ached. But his hand fell away, his knee following as he stepped back, spinning on his heels and walking down the hall.

"Come."

He sauntered into a room at the end of the hall as Hermione peeled herself from the wall. By the time she entered his bedroom, he had already discarded his shirt. He was standing at the center of the room, bathed in a bright moonlight streaming through sheer curtains. And he looked immaculate.

His arms were shielded in colorful tattoos, ending at a set of broad shoulders into which she wanted to sink her teeth. But what genuinely made her lips part with a quiet gasp was the still pink scar that ran across his chest, overtop nearly perfectly sculpted abs. Across the deep V that dipped below the hem of his jeans, which clung to his smooth body. 

"Here, Granger," he spoke, pointing at the spot before him.

Her eyes never left his chest as she stepped forward slowly, sights roaming up and down the jagged scar. She knew so well the moment that had caused it and felt a new wave of sorrow ripple through her.

But his hand slipped under her chin, a soft thumb sitting atop it as he raised her eyes to his. And without saying a word, he spun her, a hand sweeping against her neck and pulling her curls to the side. Excitement and desire coursed through her as she welcomed the feel of his manhood firm against her lower back.

His opposite hand traversed her body, slipping below the hem of her shorts and knickers, pressing firmly into her lower abdomen, igniting a new wave of arousal. His hand curled in her hair, tugging to expose her neck somewhat, and he leaned in, dropping heated, wet kisses down to her shoulder.

The heat of his palm left her stomach for a moment, and with a smooth flick of his fingers, the button on her shorts unlodged. Malfoy's fingertips ghosted up along her abdomen, making her body shiver slightly, as his kisses turned to nibbles along her nape. His lips lingered in an area, his tongue darting against her skin slowly, punctuated with three soft kisses. 

On the birthmark that had exposed her.

He fisted her shirt in his free hand then, leaning back slightly as he lifted it upward. Her arms followed, and she felt the room's coldness dust over her skin as her shirt disappeared. He wasted no time before he flicked his finger over, and the clasp of her bar slipped open. The lingering heat of his touch as he slid one strap down her shoulder was electric. Malfoy pressed heated kisses along its path before doing the same on the other side, her bra falling to the floor softly.

"You are beautiful," he whispered against her neck, followed by a kiss, and a low moan reverberated through her throat.

Malfoy's hand skirted over her abdomen anew, trailing feather-light touches up her torso to her breast. It lingered for several seconds before cupping her bosom, kneading skillfully as both of her nipples peaked under his hold.

His hand left her hair then, her head lulling back into his shoulder. He chuckled again, his hand slipping to cup her throat. Pulsing various levels of tightness as his hand stilled on her breast, skimming down her body gently as Hermione's loud, muffled gasps rang out through the room.

His fingers shifted into her shorts, over her knickers, and he sincerely groaned as they teased her cunt. Close enough that he could likely feel her wetness but far enough that her hips bucked to try and touch his pressure. To explore the heat of his fingers.

"You're soaked, Granger. So ready, aren't you?"

But she couldn't speak or nod, even though she wanted to beg him to touch her. To push his fingers into her slit and unravel her. Hermione's lips trembled as she tried to take shaking breaths, overwhelming excitement building at the hand around her throat. Her hips rolled once against his hand again, and he groaned, swiftly seizing her mound and pulling her back somewhat as a deep moan fell from Hermione's lips.

He flexed his hand, putting pressure against her before two fingers pressed into her slit through her knickers. Causing friction that made her abdomen seize anew. Making her slit gush with further desire as he circled slowly. Then roughly. His hips rocked with his movements and his hand about her neck constricted anew. And her indelicate moans permeated the air, the scent of arousal evident even through her still clothed frame.

Malfoy withdrew both hands suddenly, making her whimper with need, trying to draw his hands back to her body with her own. Instead, his fingers hooked into the band of her shorts and knickers, slipping them down slowly over her arse until they were loose enough to drop and pool around her feet. His hands slid around her thighs then, skating up her figure until he met the junction where they joined her hips. Gripping tightly, he pulled her back into him with a low groan.

He spun her slowly then, and the wanton look on his face made her gasp. He whispered for her to remove her shoes, and to step out of her shorts. And she happily obliged.

He stepped back, moving a hand down her arm to lace their fingers and drew her toward the bed. He grinned, his near frantic gaze scanning her figure as he used his free hand to undo the button of his jeans. He slipped them off, and his cock sprang free. Hard, unrelenting, and Hermione felt her mouth water. Her tongue darted across her lips, her core clenching as he sat down on the edge of the bed, palming himself as his eyes raked over her form.

"On your knees, beautiful."

Hermione sank on shaking knees to his plush carpet, her eyes still glued to his hardened member. She could feel desire race through her, soaking her core as he pumped himself, sliding leisurely up and down with a wicked grin.

"You want to taste it, don't you, Granger? You want it so bad."

"Ye...yes," she stammered.

His free hand slipped under the chin, pulling her gaze to meet his. He looked utterly wanton as his thumb ran over her lips, shifting the bottom one down somewhat. Her tongue flicked against it softly, and he grinned, shoving the digit within.

It wasn't what she wanted, but the heat on his face as he watched her suck his thumb, swirling her tongue around it, made her hands tighten on her own thighs. She tried to push them together, seeking any friction to satisfy her need, but his foot drove against them, keeping them wide. Keeping her soaking wet.

He tugged his finger from her lips then, his hand finding the back of her head. With a somewhat delicate tug forward of her curls that didn't match his demeanor, he leaned himself toward her mouth, enticing her. And her cunt throbbed as her lips surrounded his tip.

A long seethe passed through his clenched jaws, and her hand replaced his. Tugging slowly as her tongue rolled against his tip. Her lips held a shallow hold on his member as her hand gripped, rotating his flesh up and down.

"Suck it," he instructed, and her slit gushed as she opened her throat, taking him in.

Hermione's head bobbed deliberately, her cheeks suctioned in as her hand around his base followed her lips movements. Up and down. Slowly. Then quickly as he groaned. Twisting her neck as her hand turned in the opposite direction. His stiff cock was wider and longer than it seemed, making her want to gag as it trailed in and out of her throat.

Malfoy's hand gripped her curls then, and the pressure increased her speed. Her desire. She could hear his breaths, jagged and forced as his second hand slipped into her hair.

"Good girl," he growled, his hips bucking once making her gag. "Take it all."

At his eager tune, Hermione did as directed. Sucking harder as she tried to take him in fully. She'd never been the best at sucking men off, but as she gagged, her spit slipping down his shaft, he groaned loudly, bucking his hips as his hands held her head in place.

Her cunt throbbed as he fucked her mouth, her nails digging deep into his thighs as he moaned.

She could feel his cock pulsing, itching for release. But before he came, his hands were underneath her arms, pulling her up and over his lap. Her legs fell to the sides of his, and his head fell to her breast. Taking it into his mouth as he swirled his tongue about her nipple. Hermione moaned, a somewhat gargled sound, as her hands fell to his shoulders, and his fingers slid to her slit. 

"You're so wet for me, love," he chuckled huskily, pulling back, his fingers ghosting over her and driving her absolutely mad. "Do you want my fingers?"

Hermione didn't respond, other than to push her hips forward, rubbing her clit against his stationary hand with a lewd moan. Her head fell back as his fingers pressed around her mound, pulsing somewhat before rubbing a few rough circles.

"Please, Malfoy," she begged, thrusting her hips once more.

He growled deeply as a finger flicked roughly against her clit. "Draco."

"Draco, please!" she cried out, and his teeth sank into her shoulder, a hand sliding around her back as he plunged two fingers deep into her slickened core.

Two fingers that nearly made her come seconds after driving into her. Malfoy's whole arm started to vibrate, his fingers and palm slapping against the wetness of her pussy, fucking her ruthlessly as her loud moans saturated the room. Pleasure built rapidly within her sensitive core, the tease of the past minutes rising a wave of joy within her.

And her orgasm overtook her when his thumb fell to her clit, pulsing quickly to match his fingers plunging within. Her hips thrust against his hand, riding out the waves of her pleasure as he held her. His fingers slowed their movements as Hermione's tense body relaxed, shuddering somewhat as he connected their lips.

Removing his fingers, he lowered her down, and she melded against him. He scooted back on the bed then, dragging her limp form with him as he kissed her slowly, passionately. She rocked her hips a touch against his member, and she heard him groan, shoving a hand in her hair and driving his tongue against hers.

His free hand slipped between them, urging her up somewhat and grasping his cock. He swiped the tip along her folds eagerly, pressing into her clit in small circles, coating himself before aligning their centers.

With a fragile gasp against his lips, Hermione welcomed Malfoy's length into her slit.

She took a moment to adjust to the fullness and the heat between them before rolling her hips forward, friction budding on her clit anew as his cock moved against her walls. A lengthy seethe hissed against her chest as he peppered tender kisses to her flesh, licking her collarbone as her hips kept a slow, methodical pace.

Malfoy's hands snaked down her body, around her, and griped her arse cheeks tightly. One palm engulfing each cheek as he tugged them apart, urging her hips to move quicker as a single finger pressed an unexpected pleasure to her opening. She gasped, her head falling back as her hands encircled his neck, fingernails digging their satisfaction against his skin.

His hands guided her then, tugging and drawing her forward and back on his cock. Faster. Harder. Before slowing and fucking up into her lightly. She could feel her walls fluttering, urging him in further. Trying to hold him in place as friction rubbed against her apex.

"Fuck," he groaned.

And the next moment, her back landed against the softest mattress she'd ever experienced, their cores still attached. Malfoy's lips met hers in passionate kisses as he rolled his hips gently. Languidly. A determination littered his face as he pulled back, sliding his arms underneath her and dropping his forehead to her shoulder.

And his slow rhythm was surreal. Hermione keened, arching her back as his hard organ pushed against her most pleasurable wall again and again. And a familiar burning pleasure inside her made her legs shake as she wrapped them about his body. Stealing her air as her cries began to come out silent. Her fingers sliding against his skin, around his neck, and clutching against his back.

The weight of his body and the warmth within her center caused her to cry out as he fucked her smoothly, her trembling fingers clawing at his back and his arms.

"Draco," she moaned quietly into his ear, and the low growl in his throat made his approval known.

His movement grew punishing then, but her cunt embraced it, pleaded for more. Cried for the slam of his hips into hers. She could feel tension budding again, a tingle of sheer ecstasy invading her bones as she pumped her hips, matching his cadence.

And her insides ignited suddenly, pleasure erupting as he fucked her unrelentingly. Slamming out wave after wave, scream after scream, from her body. Her fingers clutched against him as she cried his given name over and over. 

"Fuck," he grunted as his movement grew fever, his fingers digging into her skin as he beat her slit. 

Malfoy moaned as he forced into her once, twice, thrice more before he moaned loudly. And she could feel her fluttering insides milking his arousal deep within her. Their labored breaths the only noise as he seemed to melt on top of her, his head falling to lay against her shoulder, kissing her neck as he stopped his movement.

They laid there for some time, her fingernails running slowly over his skin as their breaths evened. His small kisses making her gut flutter as if they hadn't just fucked. Eventually, he shifted off of her, laying on his side facing her, his expression soft. Eyes closed and a satisfied smile on his lips that she knew was echoed on her own features.

"I should…" Hermione tried, rolling over to scoot from the bed.

But Malfoy's arm snaked around her middle, tightening around her as he pulled her back into his chest. His hand slid up her torso, cupping her breast within his grasp, sighing softly as he kissed the back of her head.

"You should go to sleep, Granger," he whispered.

Hermione laid there a moment, the bewilderment of her night somewhat apparent before she relaxed in his hold. "...good night, Draco."

"Good night, beautiful."

**Author's Note:**

> The sequel to this one-shot is now posted! Read [Amanda's Morning After](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26687908) now!


End file.
